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#the real deal magazine
cookinguptales · 1 year
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so American Girl's new historical characters are from 1999, look almost exactly like Mary-Kate and Ashley Olsen, and are worried about Y2K. They listen to the Spice Girls, have tamagotchis, and use gel pens. The word "sk8r" was used unironically in their description.
I literally had the AG slumber party book that's part of the Pizza Hut BOOK IT set. The exact AG magazine that's in other photos, too.
my childhood... is historical now...
just put me in the ground...
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BONUS: I texted my mother:
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skruttet · 15 days
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The Great Forest Fire - 1/2
Masterpost of translated magazine stories
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hikaru-hoshina · 11 months
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Since I remember that at the time leaks weren't as a thing as nowadays and there was a huge fight over who was going to be Cure Ace. I was very sure Cure Ace was going to be Regina, and ultimately took off guard (like everybody else at the time) when Aguri showed up!
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cylonbarnes · 7 months
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now that i'm at The College I'm Getting My Degree From i'm like ooooooh it's all real now! i'm actively working on a international literary journal and shit!
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“If buying isn’t owning, piracy isn’t stealing”
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20 years ago, I got in a (friendly) public spat with Chris Anderson, who was then the editor in chief of Wired. I'd publicly noted my disappointment with glowing Wired reviews of DRM-encumbered digital devices, prompting Anderson to call me unrealistic for expecting the magazine to condemn gadgets for their DRM:
https://longtail.typepad.com/the_long_tail/2004/12/is_drm_evil.html
I replied in public, telling him that he'd misunderstood. This wasn't an issue of ideological purity – it was about good reviewing practice. Wired was telling readers to buy a product because it had features x, y and z, but at any time in the future, without warning, without recourse, the vendor could switch off any of those features:
https://memex.craphound.com/2004/12/29/cory-responds-to-wired-editor-on-drm/
I proposed that all Wired endorsements for DRM-encumbered products should come with this disclaimer:
WARNING: THIS DEVICE’S FEATURES ARE SUBJECT TO REVOCATION WITHOUT NOTICE, ACCORDING TO TERMS SET OUT IN SECRET NEGOTIATIONS. YOUR INVESTMENT IS CONTINGENT ON THE GOODWILL OF THE WORLD’S MOST PARANOID, TECHNOPHOBIC ENTERTAINMENT EXECS. THIS DEVICE AND DEVICES LIKE IT ARE TYPICALLY USED TO CHARGE YOU FOR THINGS YOU USED TO GET FOR FREE — BE SURE TO FACTOR IN THE PRICE OF BUYING ALL YOUR MEDIA OVER AND OVER AGAIN. AT NO TIME IN HISTORY HAS ANY ENTERTAINMENT COMPANY GOTTEN A SWEET DEAL LIKE THIS FROM THE ELECTRONICS PEOPLE, BUT THIS TIME THEY’RE GETTING A TOTAL WALK. HERE, PUT THIS IN YOUR MOUTH, IT’LL MUFFLE YOUR WHIMPERS.
Wired didn't take me up on this suggestion.
But I was right. The ability to change features, prices, and availability of things you've already paid for is a powerful temptation to corporations. Inkjet printers were always a sleazy business, but once these printers got directly connected to the internet, companies like HP started pushing out "security updates" that modified your printer to make it reject the third-party ink you'd paid for:
https://www.eff.org/deeplinks/2020/11/ink-stained-wretches-battle-soul-digital-freedom-taking-place-inside-your-printer
Now, this scam wouldn't work if you could just put things back the way they were before the "update," which is where the DRM comes in. A thicket of IP laws make reverse-engineering DRM-encumbered products into a felony. Combine always-on network access with indiscriminate criminalization of user modification, and the enshittification will follow, as surely as night follows day.
This is the root of all the right to repair shenanigans. Sure, companies withhold access to diagnostic codes and parts, but codes can be extracted and parts can be cloned. The real teeth in blocking repair comes from the law, not the tech. The company that makes McDonald's wildly unreliable McFlurry machines makes a fortune charging franchisees to fix these eternally broken appliances. When a third party threatened this racket by reverse-engineering the DRM that blocked independent repair, they got buried in legal threats:
https://pluralistic.net/2021/04/20/euthanize-rentier-enablers/#cold-war
Everybody loves this racket. In Poland, a team of security researchers at the OhMyHack conference just presented their teardown of the anti-repair features in NEWAG Impuls locomotives. NEWAG boobytrapped their trains to try and detect if they've been independently serviced, and to respond to any unauthorized repairs by bricking themselves:
https://mamot.fr/@[email protected]/111528162905209453
Poland is part of the EU, meaning that they are required to uphold the provisions of the 2001 EU Copyright Directive, including Article 6, which bans this kind of reverse-engineering. The researchers are planning to present their work again at the Chaos Communications Congress in Hamburg this month – Germany is also a party to the EUCD. The threat to researchers from presenting this work is real – but so is the threat to conferences that host them:
https://www.cnet.com/tech/services-and-software/researchers-face-legal-threats-over-sdmi-hack/
20 years ago, Chris Anderson told me that it was unrealistic to expect tech companies to refuse demands for DRM from the entertainment companies whose media they hoped to play. My argument – then and now – was that any tech company that sells you a gadget that can have its features revoked is defrauding you. You're paying for x, y and z – and if they are contractually required to remove x and y on demand, they are selling you something that you can't rely on, without making that clear to you.
But it's worse than that. When a tech company designs a device for remote, irreversible, nonconsensual downgrades, they invite both external and internal parties to demand those downgrades. Like Pavel Chekov says, a phaser on the bridge in Act I is going to go off by Act III. Selling a product that can be remotely, irreversibly, nonconsensually downgraded inevitably results in the worst person at the product-planning meeting proposing to do so. The fact that there are no penalties for doing so makes it impossible for the better people in that meeting to win the ensuing argument, leading to the moral injury of seeing a product you care about reduced to a pile of shit:
https://pluralistic.net/2023/11/25/moral-injury/#enshittification
But even if everyone at that table is a swell egg who wouldn't dream of enshittifying the product, the existence of a remote, irreversible, nonconsensual downgrade feature makes the product vulnerable to external actors who will demand that it be used. Back in 2022, Adobe informed its customers that it had lost its deal to include Pantone colors in Photoshop, Illustrator and other "software as a service" packages. As a result, users would now have to start paying a monthly fee to see their own, completed images. Fail to pay the fee and all the Pantone-coded pixels in your artwork would just show up as black:
https://pluralistic.net/2022/10/28/fade-to-black/#trust-the-process
Adobe blamed this on Pantone, and there was lots of speculation about what had happened. Had Pantone jacked up its price to Adobe, so Adobe passed the price on to its users in the hopes of embarrassing Pantone? Who knows? Who can know? That's the point: you invested in Photoshop, you spent money and time creating images with it, but you have no way to know whether or how you'll be able to access those images in the future. Those terms can change at any time, and if you don't like it, you can go fuck yourself.
These companies are all run by CEOs who got their MBAs at Darth Vader University, where the first lesson is "I have altered the deal, pray I don't alter it further." Adobe chose to design its software so it would be vulnerable to this kind of demand, and then its customers paid for that choice. Sure, Pantone are dicks, but this is Adobe's fault. They stuck a KICK ME sign to your back, and Pantone obliged.
This keeps happening and it's gonna keep happening. Last week, Playstation owners who'd bought (or "bought") Warner TV shows got messages telling them that Warner had walked away from its deal to sell videos through the Playstation store, and so all the videos they'd paid for were going to be deleted forever. They wouldn't even get refunds (to be clear, refunds would also be bullshit – when I was a bookseller, I didn't get to break into your house and steal the books I'd sold you, not even if I left some cash on your kitchen table).
Sure, Warner is an unbelievably shitty company run by the single most guillotineable executive in all of Southern California, the loathsome David Zaslav, who oversaw the merger of Warner with Discovery. Zaslav is the creep who figured out that he could make more money cancelling completed movies and TV shows and taking a tax writeoff than he stood to make by releasing them:
https://aftermath.site/there-is-no-piracy-without-ownership
Imagine putting years of your life into making a program – showing up on set at 5AM and leaving your kids to get their own breakfast, performing stunts that could maim or kill you, working 16-hour days during the acute phase of the covid pandemic and driving home in the night, only to have this absolute turd of a man delete the program before anyone could see it, forever, to get a minor tax advantage. Talk about moral injury!
But without Sony's complicity in designing a remote, irreversible, nonconsensual downgrade feature into the Playstation, Zaslav's war on art and creative workers would be limited to material that hadn't been released yet. Thanks to Sony's awful choices, David Zaslav can break into your house, steal your movies – and he doesn't even have to leave a twenty on your kitchen table.
The point here – the point I made 20 years ago to Chris Anderson – is that this is the foreseeable, inevitable result of designing devices for remote, irreversible, nonconsensual downgrades. Anyone who was paying attention should have figured that out in the GW Bush administration. Anyone who does this today? Absolute flaming garbage.
Sure, Zaslav deserves to be staked out over an anthill and slathered in high-fructose corn syrup. But save the next anthill for the Sony exec who shipped a product that would let Zaslav come into your home and rob you. That piece of shit knew what they were doing and they did it anyway. Fuck them. Sideways. With a brick.
Meanwhile, the studios keep making the case for stealing movies rather than paying for them. As Tyler James Hill wrote: "If buying isn't owning, piracy isn't stealing":
https://bsky.app/profile/tylerjameshill.bsky.social/post/3kflw2lvam42n
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If you'd like an essay-formatted version of this post to read or share, here's a link to it on pluralistic.net, my surveillance-free, ad-free, tracker-free blog:
https://pluralistic.net/2023/12/08/playstationed/#tyler-james-hill
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Image: Alan Levine (modified) https://pxhere.com/en/photo/218986
CC BY 2.0 https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by/2.0/
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heidismagblog · 29 days
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LISTEN. HEAR ME OUT. eddie and Best friend!reader petty arguing, right, so reader says 'ooh you wanna kiss me soooo bad' and he does.
Hear ME OUT!!
What about we sprinkle in some jealous!Eddie too give it the ol'razzle dazzle.
Jealous! Eddie Munson x Bestfriend!reader
Warnings: fluff, some cursing, kissing that's about it.
Not proofread ignore mistakes.
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Eddie has been in a pissy mood all damn week. He was short with you. He was snappy and just passive all around. The bottom line is that he was being a real asshole to you. You couldn't pinpoint exactly what made him this way. You chalked it up to him, barely getting any sleep. Maybe he cut back on smoking and is dealing with those withdrawals.
Doesn't matter at this point he was a dick and taking it out on you specifically. Ever since you went out on that date with his friend, Eddie has been insufferable. Little did you know that's the exact reason he's been moody with you.
He was jealous. You were his, and he had to watch his friend pick you up for a date. He sat in his room thinking about his friend kissing you. His friend holding your hand, and God knows what else you two did on your date together.
But you've had about enough of his attitude. You were sitting on his bed flipping through his heavy metal magazine while he tuned up his guitar.
"Hey, eddie, can you turn on the tv?" You looked before turning another page. You weren't even reading the comic. You were more interested in the artwork than anything the plot.
"Turn it on your damn self." He already sounded aggravated with you. "And stop turning those damn pages like that you'll rip them."
He rolled his eyes and turned his chair to face more away from you.
You huffed immediately, getting fed with him now." Alright, what hell is your problem?"
You slammed down his magazine, crossing your arms over your chest. You felt your face heating from the anger rising inside of you. You've dealt with his mood swings before, but that's because they were never directly pointed at you. Not until recently.
"I don't have a problem." He shrugged, still refusing to face you.
"Oh yes, you do. You've been a complete douche all week."
He smirked and finally turned around. "I've been a douche? Me? Maybe I wouldn't be such a douche if you weren't so fucking annoying."
"I'm not annoying!" You defended yourself, raising your voice slightly.
"Oh, but yes, you are. All you do is yap all day long, and I gotta listen to it." Eddie, let out a condescending laugh after you argued back with him.
You squinted your eyes, "Yeah, well, at least I'm not walking around with a stick up my ass."
You could hear him growl something under his breath. His lips were pressed in a tight line.
"You're right. I do have a stick up my ass. How about you get your ass up and turn on the TV because my ass is currently busy with a stick rammed up it." His voice was dripping with sarcasm while bickering back and forth with you.
You rolled your eyes and got up off his bed to turn on the TV. You messed with the volume until it was as high as it could go. You were purposely trying to press his buttons. You wanted a reaction out of him. You wanted that last word, and you were going to get it. He couldn't hear himself think or focus on what he was currently doing.
Eddie jumps up from his chair and turns down the TV. You just stay standing there, twisting the nob to it turn back up. You're both staring each other down in the process.
"You're bein- he went to speak, but you raised the volume up again, cutting him off.
Eddie let a deep breath and turned the tv back down once more. His face is all red, and sets his guitar back against his dresser. "You're being reeeeeally petty right now. I'm trying to tune up my guitar."
"Yeah?...so?" You slowly turn the TV up again with your eyes locked onto his.
His jaw tightens, and his nostrils flare. You decided to mess with him. You wanted to rile him up some more. He rubbed his hands down his face.
You watched him closely, and a little idea sparked in your head. You don't know what really came over you. Probably, his attitude with you has finally made you lose your mind or something.
"Ooh, you wanna kiss me sooo bad right now, huh?" You taunted him.
There was always this unspoken crush between the two of you that was mutual. You were being mean, and you didn't care. You were past your limit right now. You wanted to get under his skin, and it was working.
He doesn't say anything he just looks at you. He steps closer, leaving very little room between the two of you. Without any warning, his lips came crashing down into yours. His hands go up to hold both sides of your face gently. His soft lips locked with yours as his tongue slipped past them.
The kiss was sloppy but passionate. He didn't care if your teeth clashed a little bit. He needed to do this. You felt light-headed while your tongues fought for dominance. Your face felt all tingly, and your hands moved up to grip onto his forearms. Only a few seconds have passed, but it felt like hours. Time stood still as you made out with your best friend in his bedroom.
He let go of your face and moved his lips slowly away from you. He had a smug expression on his face. Your eyes flutter back open, and you swallow. You're breathing heavy, and you don't know if it's from the kiss or from the fight you and Eddie were getting into. Or a combination of both.
"Why have you been so mean to me all week?" You whispered your fingers, move up to trace over your own lips. You could still feel traces of him on your mouth.
Eddie looked at you and with a sad smile. "I couldn't get over the fact that you went on date with my friend Cody."
Your eyebrows raised. "You-- You were jealous of Cody?" You were in disbelief. Here you thought he was just annoyed being around you.
You couldn't believe he would be so irritated over that date. It was one date, and you were miserable. Plus, it's not like you haven't seen him take home his fare share of women from the bar.
Those nights where he would be out with a made you feel sick to your stomach. But you never once took it out on him like this. You shake those thoughts and try to listen and understand where he is coming from. Right now, it's about him, not you. He was never good at expressing his feelings, and because of that, he was more prone to lashing out.
"Well, yeah, just the mere thought of him being so close to you really upset me. I know I've been a dick but I just couldn't help it." He plopped back down in his chair.
You moved to sit at the edge of his bed. Your legs felt like they were going to give out after kissing him.
"Why didn't you say something?" You sighed and picked at your chipped nail polish.
"I don't know.. I don't want to mess up what we have." He gestured between the two of you. His voice was a lot softer now than is has been all week.
You nodded and understood why he felt like he couldn't express his feelings. "Can you kiss me again?"
Eddie's eyes dart up, and he looks a little surprised. "Can i?"
You couldn't have actually wanted to kiss him again? He thought to himself. He was already feeling guilty for just happened. He felt his heart start to race again.
You smiled and nodded, "I wish you would have kissed me sooner."
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lovebugism · 2 months
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Smut request idea: Eddie worshipping reader's tits, who is insecure about their small size (lol totally not projecting 😅)
ty for requesting :D — eddie 'heart eyes' munson sees your boobs for the first time (cw for nudity, but no real smut, 18+ mdni, 1.1k)
bug's one year celebration ♡
On a rainy, post-show night, in the back of Eddie Munson’s van, you decide to be brave.
Buzzing with alcohol, adrenaline, and adoration — a wild concoction rushing like fire through your veins — you take your shirt off for the very first time in front of him. Mostly because your sweater was getting itchy, so you’re not entirely sure how brave that makes you. But your skin burns still, empty like a blank sky, yearning for a warmer touch to fall over you like stars.
In the simplest, most human way, you need Eddie to touch you like you need to breathe air. 
So, when you tugged the fuzzy sweater up and over your head, you hadn’t thought much about doing it. You were too full of need, too unthinking. Head clouded with longing until you developed something short of tunnel vision for the boy underneath you.
It wasn’t that big a deal, right? Isn’t this what girlfriends do with boyfriends?
Eddie’s silence is not reassuring. It feels more like a knife lodged in the very center of your sternum.
You lay the sweater beside you and cross your arms slowly over yourself. Equal parts to hide what you’d just revealed to him and to shield your bleeding, stinging heart.
Eddie’s face twists, pained features swirling like a hurt puppy. “Wait— What are you doing?” he asks in an unabashed whine. His less-than-subtle pout deepens as his chocolate-button eyes flit up to yours.
You keep curling in on yourself, but from where you straddle his thighs, he’s impossible to run away from. “Why aren’t you saying anything?” you wonder in a tiny voice, distantly fearful of the answer. 
You don’t have the kind of chest people put on magazines. Maybe you should’ve just kept the shirt on.
Eddie’s ringed fingers smooth around your bare waist. He realizes he’s holding you there for the very first time without any fabric covering you. His chest starts to sparkle. His thumbs rub gently at your ribcage, just below the arms still concealing yourself.
“‘Cause I’m too busy enjoying the view, honey,” he answers with a plush pink and crooked smile. His words are slightly slurred, weighed down by fatigue and desire. “How am I supposed to think when I’m looking at you, huh?”
You make a faint, grumbly noise, features scrunching in disdain at his compliment.
He smiles wider and curls his fingers around the wrists you hold over yourself. There is little force behind his touch, no eagerness to tug your hands away. Instead he just holds you, in a distinctly quiet embrace, telling you silently that you can let your guard down whenever you’re ready.
“So you don’t think they’re weird?”
He answers with an immediate scoff. “No, I don’t think they’re weird— I think they’re beautiful! I think every part of you is beautiful.”
You grow less and less tense in his hold. Your hands start to slip. You let them. 
Bare again in front of him, the boyish glimmer in Eddie’s dark eyes returns. 
The wild cadence of rain on the rusted tin roof resembles the rapid patter of his pounding heart as he ogles at you. And, with his back propped against the driver’s seat, he has the most perfect view of you.
The pale hands along your ribcage slowly start to rise. His warm touch leaves sparkling goosebumps in its wake. He doesn’t stop until his thumbs are settled neatly beneath your breasts.
“I mean— I always knew they’d be pretty, you know?” he mumbles, getting lost in you all over again. You don’t know if he’s talking to you, or if he even knows he’s rambling. “‘Cause when you’d let me feel you up, you know, over the shirt— I always imagined what you’d look like under it…”
He trails off then, forgets how to make words when his thumb rubs over your soft nipple. The gentle stimulation makes it stiffen beneath his touch. Eddie smiles to himself, all boyishly giddy.
“…But I couldn’t’ve, in my wildest imagination, expected this.”
Your chest warms with his affection. You scoff about it, anyway. “You’re such a boy,” you laugh.
“It’s not my fault you’re so pretty…” 
Still cupping your chest, Eddie leans down to kiss you there. A chaste, open-mouthed peck to your pebbled nipple. His heart swells when he hears you moan above him — your nose buried in the strands of his wild hair, fingers playing with the curls at the nape of his neck. 
Eddie licks his rosy lips when he pulls back from you. 
“See? You’re gonna kill me one day, doll— I swear,” he teases in a joking tone, but means every bit of it. He loves you so much it makes his chest ache. You’ll give him a goddamn heart attack one day if he’s not careful. “Can’t believe you’ve been hiding from me this whole time…”
You’re not sure either, now. 
“I was just scared that… I don’t know,” you stammer, clammy hands fidgetting with his intentionally tattered Corroded Coffin t-shirt. You’d helped him cut rips into the white fabric before the show. You distract yourself with the pink lipstick smudge you’d pressed along the neck of it, rubbing hopelessly at a stain that’ll never come off. 
“I was scared that you’d think I was less pretty or something. I don’t know.”
“No,” Eddie recoils immediately, face twisting in abhorrence of the thought. He shakes his wild head at you. “No way. That’s not possible. I think you’re fucking— perfect. And I think that…”
His eyes fall to your chest again. He loses the rest of his words.
A smile blossoms on your face. You don’t think you’ve ever felt prettier than you do right now.
“You think that what?” you tease, hands rising again to twist in his deep brown curls.
Eddie’s button eyes flit back up to you. His ringed hands lift to cup your breasts in his wide palms. They fit just perfect in his hands — like he was made to hold you there. The width of his beam rivals your own. 
“That I just found Corroded Coffin’s next album cover,” he answers.
The sound of your laughter fills the van. Sunshine compared to the rolling rain outside.
“No. No way. That’s not happening,” you refuse, still smiling, as Eddie leans into you again.
You wrap your arms around his neck when he puts his mouth on you. He buries his own laughter against the plush of your breast — along with so many little kisses. 
He doesn’t mind your light-hearted rejection. The only thing Eddie likes more than showing you off is keeping you totally to himself.
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strangenewfriends · 2 years
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mokulule · 6 months
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Take Out for Dummies - part 1
Ship: Dead on Main
“Excuse me?” Jason asked in disbelief.
“How would you describe your ideal date?” the man repeated the question calmly as if he hadn’t snuck up on Red Hood on a rooftop in the middle of the night and didn’t have two guns pointed at him by said surprised vigilante.
Jason had no idea what to think, it was absurd. Only one thing made the smallest bit of sense. After all some reporters would do anything for a story.
“Is this an interview for a gossip magazine?”
The man blinked. “No, this is for personal use only.”
Okay. That was even weirder. With that thought he holstered his guns, grabbed his grapple instead and jumped off the building. He could move his patrol elsewhere for tonight.
Oo o oO
It had been a few days, the strange encounter forgotten about as he’d quickly come across a shipment of unsanctioned drugs entering his territory; Black Mask was making moves towards Crime Alley again. Red Hood had to nip that bullshit in the bud. Just because he was more vigilante than crime lord these days didn’t mean he’d gone soft.
So, Jason had forgotten about the strange man on the rooftop and was wholly unprepared when once again he was standing on a rooftop taking a small break in his patrol and someone spoke:
“So I assume dinner is out what with the whole helmet deal, but what about chocolate?”Jason spun around heart in this throat, guns pointing towards the direction of the voice. It took a moment for him to even find him. This time he was sitting on top on the slanted roof of the stairwell.
“What the-“
“A box of chocolate could be enjoyed later, would that be a suitable gift?”
“What is wrong with you?”
“Too many things to remember off the top of my head.” The man jumped down and walked towards Jason, once more showing his absolute disregard for the guns pointing at him.
“Do you have a death wish?”
That for some reason brought a smile to his face.
Somehow, Jason was the one taking a step back despite being the one holding the guns. That at least stopped the man’s advance and he raised his hands in surrender.
“Sorry man, I guess this whole showing up on a rooftop in the dark is kinda creepy.” He scratched the back of his head sheepishly. “It’s just with you being you, I don’t know where else to catch you.”
Jason felt an incoming headache, and he was feeling increasingly silly pointing his guns at the man when he didn’t react to them at all.
“How about you explain who you are and what you want?”
“Oh!” He slapped his forehead as if he couldn’t believe he’d forgotten. “I’m Danny, and I’ve been hired to take you out.” He smiled brightly.
Jason stared in disbelief. Who in their right mind just announced they’d been hired to kill someone, to the person they intended to-
No…
It couldn’t be…
He’d been asking about dates and chocolate. He couldn’t possibly have misunderstood take out Red Hood as take out Red Hood on a date. Nobody would be that stupid…
“Why would someone hire you to take me out on a date?”
Danny, if that was his real name, shrugged. “Maybe they thought you were stressed and needed a nice evening? I don’t know. I don’t ask questions. I just do odd jobs for money, keeps the lights on, you know?”
Jason didn’t respond. He couldn’t believe this.
“And like this job pays extremely well for some reason, so like I’d like to do a good job of it hence the questions?”
Of course it payed extremely well, it was meant to be a freaking hit! Still could be of course, but then it was the oddest way to go about it that Jason had ever experienced and he’d taken out quite a few would-be assassins in his time.
Danny’s face fell at Jason’s continued non-responsiveness. He sighed. Then brought out a notepad and scribbled something down, before ripping off the paper and holding it out to Jason.
“Look,” he said, when Jason made no move to take the paper and still just kept his guns trained on him, “here’s my number if you change your mind. If you haven’t called back in three days, I’ll return my advance and tell them I can’t do it - no matter how sad I’ll be to see that money go.” He looked pained at the admission, but then looked back up at Red Hood with determination.
“Still please reconsider, Mr Hood, I promise I’ll show you a good time if you agree to a date.”He looked expectantly from his hand with the paper to Jason’s helmet. Jason sighed. Holstering his right hand gun he took the paper. It was indeed a phone number, above the number it said Danny with a little smiley face drawn after the name.
Danny’s face brightened into a smile.
“Have a good night then Mr. Hood, I hope to hear from you.” Danny walked backwards with a wave and promptly tripped on an empty bottle someone had left.
“Woah!” His arms windmilled and he only just saved himself from falling back and hitting his head by sheer luck as he caught himself in the sort of gravity defying pose that would win him most limbo games. He laughed sheepishly as he put a hand down and turned around to push himself back up.
“So that was embarrassing. Should look where I go, huh? Never know when you’ll be assaulted by littering…” his voice trailed off as he walked away. He threw a last wave over his shoulder before jumping onto the fire escape and beginning his climb down.
Jason was left standing on the rooftop, paper clutched in one hand, trying to comprehend the whole baffling conversation. Also there was a distinct curl of embarrassment that he’d actually felt threatened by the guy at one point.
Yeah, he wasn’t gonna unpack that. He put the paper in a pocket of his utility belt and took a running leap to the next rooftop.
Oo o oO
Jason could not believe he was actually doing this.
It was three days later. In the mean time he’d asked around his old enforcers if they heard about a guy named Danny who did “odd jobs” as he’d called it.
As it turned out, there was indeed an odd-job-Danny, sometimes just called odd-Danny, with an increasing reputation on the streets of Gotham for doing all sorts of jobs - everything from helping old ladies carry groceries home for pennies and a pat on the cheek to heavier lifting by the docks. When he asked one of the street kids about him, he was told he also helped look for lost pets for pretty rocks or whatever the kids had in their pockets at the time, and he could fix just about anything - which had to be an exaggeration, but then again the street kids weren’t prone to overly positive opinions about adults, so he’d certainly made quite an impression on them.
Yet despite a lot of people knowing about him, apparently nobody knew a last name or where he lived. It was a mystery.
All that to say that Jason was curious… and apparently doing this.
He looked down at his phone, where he’d already put in the number. His thumb hovered over the call button. He still could not believe he was doing this. If this was a trap he was apparently walking in.
With a sigh he pushed the button.
It rang three times before it connected.
“Hello?” A hesitant voice asked.
“Is this Danny?” “Who’s asking?”
“You ask me on a date and you already forgot, I’m hurt,” Jason deadpanned hoping he would catch on to it not being wise to mention Red Hood’s name on an unencrypted line.
“Oh! So is that a yes?” He piped up excitedly.
Urgh, why was it charming that that he sounded so genuinely excited?
“Yes.”
“Sweet. Did you consider my questions?”
“Nope,” Jason popped the p and found himself smirking, “gonna have to impress me all on your own.”
Danny huffed. “Have it your way. I’ll show you a good time, you’ll see. How does… Sunday afternoon work for you?”
“’s fine.”
“Meet you in front of the building we last met, at 2 pm? Also unless you wanna take the bus, maybe bring your bike? I don’t drive.”
Jason scoffed. Letting some stranger hired to kill him close to him on his bike was a recipe for disaster. Still he found himself answering:
“Sure.”
“Great! I’ll see you Sunday then.”
With those words the call ended.
Jason looked down at his phone. He couldn’t believe it. Jason, no, Red Hood had a date for this Sunday. A giddy feeling bubbled up in his chest and he couldn’t help laughing. Red Hood going on a date. It was fucking ridiculous.
Yet, he was kinda looking forward to it. -
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asterosian · 3 months
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I’m watching Jesse Gender’s video acknowledging the criticism against that one line in her video and how she needs to address her own blind spots when it comes to trans men, which I think it’s awesome that we’re being listened to when I would’ve fully expected us to be written off by most other people, but one thing she mentioned got me thinking (read: distracted) about how exactly trans men challenge the gender power hierarchy. It’s something I’ve tried touching on before but it didn’t really take off as much as I wanted it to and I think that’s because I didn’t phrase it as well as I could have. And I don’t even know if I’ll succeed right now cause if I’m being honest, I’m not sure how to phrase it. Damn if I won’t try tho.
But like how nonbinary people challenge it by not even fitting into it and trans women challenge it by “lowering themselves,” I think trans men challenge it by making people question what sense or value the hierarchy has in the first place in a way that invokes a fear that those who wish to uphold that hierarchy clearly have but won’t say so too directly.
Dial your clock back to the women’s suffrage movement for a second. Have you seen the anti-suffragette posters? They certainly seem to imply that if women can vote, they can do basically anything else a man can do. She can put on pants, get a job, find a woman to marry, and - oh the horror! - live basically identically to a man. You don’t want women to become men, do you? Oh but let’s move forward. Inch by inch. Women did more things that men could do and this was a massive big deal and scared the shit out of people, but eventually it was sorta-okay. As long as they’re still women. We need to make sure they understand they are still women even if they do all these things. But of course, there’s still backwards asshats trying to turn time back to before all of this.
I’ve heard the arguments that people who think a woman’s proper place is in the kitchen wearing a dress and an apron, barefoot and pregnant with three kids already at her ankles, have made about these things. I can anyway and it’s smart to do so but I don’t even have to turn to historical writings to see it; they’re on YouTube and Rumble or whatever it’s called. They’re on Xitter. They’re even on tumblr of all places. I’ve noticed something about them; as soon as trans men are brought up, they sound exactly like the anti-suffragette posters. The hand-wringing about women getting jobs and bank accounts. One example I’ve heard from someone I’m not going to give the honor of promoting was a man who got so angry about a nonbinary person, who he believed was a trans man, being on the cover of a men’s fashion magazine. In his anger, he went on a rant that went something like “you just think men have it so much better than you cause you believe in male privilege so you wanna pretend to be one of us, but when another man tries to fight you over your girl, you’re gonna get your ass beat. You couldn’t handle being a real man!” And like, people like this guy thought women couldn’t handle most jobs out there. They thought women couldn’t be financially responsible enough to be allowed control over their own money. They thought women voting would lead to the worst candidates taking office and, even worse, then a woman could end up in office and there’s no way she could handle it. But uh. Plenty of women prove this wrong on a daily basis. This guy had to create a very specific scenario in which he believes a hypothetical trans man couldn’t handle it but any cis man should be able to. And quite frankly, it doesn’t work cause the number of cis women who’ve successfully beaten the shit out of cis men in various circumstances is a pretty good indicator that ASAB has nothing to do with fighting ability.
In short, in the eyes of a misogynist, if women can do literally anything a man can do, even become a man, then what fucking sense does patriarchy make in the first place? If you can become a man, thrive as a man, and fulfill the role of a man without issue, all while having been AFAB, then what makes (cis) men so much better than women? What was the point of all this in the first place?
What even makes a man a man?
I think those questions scare them. They don’t want to even try to answer it. They’re comfortable with the notion of those they think of as men are men, those they think of as women are women are women, this is a state as static and inflexible as a thick lead pole sticking out of the ground, and there is a natural place and role for the two genders. And every trans person no matter how they’re trans takes this notion and uproots it at multiple points at once.
The worst part is? If they just sat down with an open mind and asked these questions, a massive percentage of the trans community would be able to answer all of them. We already had to ask what makes a man a man or a woman a woman. We just don’t have simple answers most of the time.
Okay now that I’m done thinking way too much about that one point, I’m gonna keep watching the video.
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kitten4sannie · 30 days
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ʟɪꜰᴇ ɪꜱ ꜱʜᴏʀᴛ, ʟɪꜰᴇ’ꜱ ᴀ ʀᴀᴄᴇ
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ʜᴀᴛᴇ ꜱᴇx/ʜᴀɪʀ ᴘᴜʟʟɪɴɢ ➠ ꜱᴇᴏɴɢʜᴡᴀ
pairing: seasoned model! seonghwa x newcomer model! reader (fem) x models! woosan feat. director! hongjoong
genres: modeling au, smut
summary: walking for this season’s collection means everything to you, and you’re not about to let anyone get in the way, especially not a man who’s dead set on taking your place, no matter how insanely pretty he may be.
w.c: 4.8k
warnings: everyone’s an asshole here lol, use of drugs/alcohol, dom! seonghwa, bratty sub! reader, dom-ish poly! woosan, usage of the word ‘mommy’, mutual masturbation in the back of a limo, handjobs, tension, name calling/pet names, degradation/praise, brat taming, manhandling, choking, thigh grinding, kissing, brief spit play, hair pulling, marking, nasty hate sex in a club bathroom, creampie, brief breeding/bulge kink
a/n: i wanted to write like 10k words for this fic bc modeling aus just make me lose it fsr esp when ateez is involved 🧎🏻‍♀️maybe i will one day <3 i had sm fun with this one arrghhh!! alsoooo i can’t believe there’s only one more story left to share with you all like huhh ??? 😺time flies man ;~; anyways please enjoy xx
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ᴘʀᴇᴠ | ꜰꜰꜰ ᴍᴀꜱᴛᴇʀʟɪꜱᴛ | ɴᴇxᴛ
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Modeling, for some, was about being a part of something bigger than them — the head-turning brands, the constant development of fashion and what was considered to be hot and new, the runways, the avant-garde collections, the hazy after parties that supplied them with drugs, alcohol, and sex. All the excess, the gaudiness of it all, kept your cohorts going, kept them content, kept them chained to the modeling world, all the while they scratched at their pearl-adorned necks and begged for more. 
All of that was fun, sure, but what kept you on your hands and knees, what fueled you to continue dragging yourself up through the ranks, what gave you the strength to bow down and service executive after executive, what propelled you to treat your body like the ultimate temple, was the glory. The moment you were up on that stage, basking in the blood and tear soaked limelight, cameras flashing, rendering you blind, your dear director’s arm hooked securely around your waist, your perfect face ready to be displayed on every magazine cover; that’s why you sacrificed everything. That’s why you gave all of yourself to the fashion beast — let it consume you whole, spit you out, and mold you into something they wanted. And you weren’t about to let anyone get in the way. 
On the way to your esteemed director’s latest show, you let your mind go blank in the back of the spacious limousine, resting your half-empty glass of champagne in between your legs, not paying any mind to the boisterous conversation your modeling friends were having from either side of you until one of them suddenly grabbed onto your arm and tugged on it.
“Hey, baby, you’re gonna want to hold onto your tits…” San, your best friend since your first real shoot, warned you, before popping a few pills into his mouth and downing them with some sparkling champagne. 
“Why? What’s going on?” you asked concernedly, not ready for anything bad to happen on your big night. 
“Look at this…” Wooyoung, your ride-or-die, who was a part of the package deal when you initially met San, spoke up beside you, leaning across the padded seat to show you something on his phone. 
You took a slow sip from your glass, your eyes studying the large, obnoxious headline that sat at the top of the celebrity news article, having to cover your mouth to keep yourself from spraying champagne all over.
Fashion Icon Park Seonghwa Joins Kim Hongjoong’s Spring Collection Due to Last Minute Inspiration 
You started to read more of the article but you felt sick to your stomach with the way they were giving Seonghwa that Samsung spin cycle sloppy toppy 9000 through their embellished wording. “This cannot be happening…Tell me this is a joke!” you gasped, grabbing onto Wooyoung’s silk sleeve and San’s leather-bound pants, pleading with both of them with your teary eyes. “If he’s going to be there, everything will be fucked. Completely and utterly fucked.” 
“Everything will be fine, doll.” Wooyoung pressed his plump, glossy lips to your cheek and lips, trying to calm you down, running his fingers through your hair. “Just relax for me…”
Your rigid body slowly began to relax, leaning further into the kisses he gave you, almost forgetting around your second counterpart, until he placed a gloved hand around your upper thigh and squeezed it, causing you to face him. “Sannie…” 
“I’m sure you’ll still be the center of attention, baby.” San continued to rub your thigh, his hand moving further and further up your bare leg, compelling you to look down at the logo engraved on his expensive glove until it disappeared underneath your tiny skirt. “I mean, look at you,” he continued in a low tone, giving you a perverse smile, motioning to the tight, sleek black designer dress you were wearing, one that Director Kim himself created for you, his star pupil. 
“He’s right, doll,” Wooyoung agreed, bringing his pinky up to his nose to snort something powdery, before leaning over to kiss you on the neck, his own hand making its way to your other thigh, pulling it open just as San did, their fingers slipping up and down your bare cunt from underneath your skirt. “You’ll always be everyone’s favorite…Our favorite too.” 
You basked in your modeling friends’ depraved attentiveness like you always seemed to do, all three of you just drinking in the pleasing sight of one another, your hands rubbing over their hardening cocks through their expensive clothing, eventually finding your way underneath it, much to their enjoyment. 
With one hand around each of their cocks, you jerked them off with frightening accuracy, knowing when to squeeze around their glistening cockheads and what vein to rub at with your thumbs to make them whimper and whine in your ears, using their leaking pre-cum to lube them up. “Aww, does that feel good? Are you two going to cum just for me?” 
“Yes, Mommy,” Wooyoung let slip out in a shaky breath, his wrist starting to cramp up from how hard he was finger-fucking you, leaving messy kisses across your collarbone. 
“Gonna cum for my favorite girl,” San exhaled into your pierced ear, pinching his gloved fingers tightly around your clit, watching you spasm with a smirk on his flushed face, his pretty pink lips forming an ‘o’ as soon as his cock began to throb. 
All three of you began to shudder and jolt against each other and the leather seats behind you, finishing your typical pre-modeling ritual with a much needed, drug-enhanced orgasm. 
Once San and Wooyoung began to fix their clothes and hair using their phone cameras, taking a few pictures of themselves to capture their alluring afterglows, you reached forward to knock on the partition that separated you and the driver.
The window slowly rolled down, bringing you face to face with the seasoned driver. “We’re just around the corner to the venue, Miss.” His eyes widened slightly when you held your hands up in front of him, his soft, jovial expression forming one of shock. 
“Napkins, please,” you requested softly with a cordial smile, as if you didn’t have your friends’ cum dripping along your manicured fingers down to your 24k gold bracelets. 
࿏࿏࿏
“If Director Kim gives the final walk to Seonghwa, I’m going to kill him…” you hissed through gritted teeth, not able to look directly at Wooyoung or San when you spoke, instead having to look upwards so that the makeup artist could properly run their brush along your lash line. 
“Director Kim or Seonghwa?” San perused, immediately sucking in his cheeks a bit, the person in front of him brushing more contour along his already sharpened cheekbones. 
“Seonghwa…that beautiful prick…” Your eyebrows furrowed together, picturing the irritatingly gorgeous man in your mind’s eye with your eyes closed shut. “I swear to god if he takes what’s mine, I’ll…” 
“You’ll what?” you heard someone say in a silky smooth voice, one that made your heart just about burst out of your chest. “What is the pretty little new girl going to do, besides talk shit behind my back, hm?” 
You opened your eyes just in time to see Seonghwa standing behind you in the mirror with one hand on his hip and the other swishing around some bubbly alcohol inside a champagne flute, his infamously piercing gaze settled entirely on you, your jaw practically on the floor. 
“Face crack of the century…” Wooyoung whispered to San, the both of them grabbing onto each other and flipping out, waiting impatiently to witness what was about to go down between two of Director Kim’s most prized possessions. 
Seonghwa carefully ran his ringed fingers through his hair, taking a few steps closer to you, placing a hand on your shoulder, squeezing it somewhat roughly, looking down at you like you were the mouse he had just pinned underneath his claws. “Is this what they consider to be hot these days?” he grimaced, eyeing you up and down, running a finger along your jaw, knowing exactly how he’d get under your skin. “Times certainly have changed…” 
You suddenly stood up and got in Seonghwa’s face, your stilettos giving you enough leverage to almost meet your sworn enemy at eye-level, pressing a finger into his chest plate through his perfectly tailored, button-up blouse. “You may be one of the hottest people in here, but you’re old news, Seonghwa. The only reason you’re considered an icon is because of Director Kim’s influence, okay? Let’s not kid ourselves.” Noticing the way Seonghwa’s face flinched, you knew you struck a nerve. Now it was time to deliver the final blow. 
Seonghwa’s hand clenched tightly around his glass, his bottom lip trapped between his teeth. He took a step closer to you, so close now that his breath hit your chin. “You better watch your fucking mouth…” 
Your friends let out silent screams, hardly able to let the makeup artists do their jobs with the way they were shaking each other. A few other models had stopped in their places to figure out why there was suddenly so much tension in their beloved workplace, their eyes on the both of you, whispering amongst one another. 
You crossed your arms over your chest, tilting your head to the side, ready to project your own insecurities onto Seonghwa for the sake of making him look so bad, he would hopefully decide to just storm out. “Why are you so mad, Seonghwa?” You reached up to run your fingers through his silky, wavy hair, giving him a fake pout. “Is it because everyone knows that the only reason you got into this show is because you let the director fuck you like all those times before? We’ve all seen the photos, you know. They got leaked everywhere.” 
It wasn’t until Seonghwa threw a full glass of champagne on you, that everyone around you let out an even bigger gasp. Your hair was wet and sticky, your mascara began to trickle down your contorted face, and worst of all, the outfit you were going to wear down the runway in a few minutes was completely ruined. Filled with a sudden sense of hatred that bordered arousal, you grabbed Seonghwa by the collar, tugging him toward you, your lips almost touching. “You…fucking…cu–” 
“Oh, sweetie…” Seonghwa reached his hand up to caress your cheek with an odd gentleness, smearing his thumb down your cheek just to ruin you a little more. “There’s no need to be jealous of me. It’s okay that you’ll never be Hongjoong’s favorite.” He gave you a sweet smile, one that was so angelic, you almost missed the devilish look in his eyes, his thumb now pressing into your bottom lip. “No matter what you do, no matter how much executive cock you suck, you’ll never be me. Accept it and you’ll be less angry…You’ll have less wrinkles too.”
It was just then that the director himself came strolling up with a few members of his frantic entourage, gasping in horror at your disheveled appearance. “Y/N, jesus, what on earth have you done to yourself, darling?” Hongjoong pulled at your sleeves and parts of your garments, tsking every now and then, absolutely appalled with your appearance. “There’s no way in hell you’re walking down my runway like that.” 
“Director, please, I haven’t even gotten a chance to walk in tonight’s collection yet!” You shook your head adamantly, getting drops of water onto Hongjoong’s pristine clothes, causing him to grab your shoulders and squeeze them, giving you a look that made you shut up and accept defeat. For now. 
Hongjoong turned to Seonghwa, his grimace being replaced by a radiant smile, reaching up to twirl a lock of the model’s shiny hair in between two fingers. “I can’t have problems like these in the middle of my show…Take over Y/N’s place for me, will you, sweetheart?” 
Seonghwa gently grabbed Hongjoong’s wrist and pressed a kiss onto his knuckles, leaving a lipstick print behind. “Anything for you, darling.” 
Hongjoong blushed and walked away with Seonghwa, his entourage following close behind them, fawning over them in a way that made your blood boil. That should’ve been you, not Seonghwa, not someone who already had their chance in the limelight. 
“Y/N, are you okay after… all that?” Wooyoung asked softly, rubbing your shoulder, frowning a bit at the small nod you gave him.
“Yeah, that was brutal to watch…” San mentioned, getting smacked in the shoulder by Wooyoung, pausing to give him a look, before bringing up a cloth to dab it against your dripping face. “You’ll bounce back from this, baby, don’t worry.” 
After a few moments of silence, you suddenly pulled the both of them closer to you. “I’m going to be the final one walking down that runway, if it’s the last thing I do.” You leaned in to press a kiss onto both of their lips, looking up at them with big, teary eyes, your bottom lip jutting out.  “You’ll help me, won’t you?” 
Your friends gulped and looked at each other for the consensus, then back at you, their pretty faces full of the same mischievous tenacity you displayed. 
࿏࿏࿏
Seonghwa never felt more alive than when he walked down the long, lit-up runway, sashaying his way to the end of it and doing a small elegant turn to the side, smiling ever so softly at the sounds of cheers and clapping coming from the vast crowd, their phone’s flashing as they eagerly captured the moment and posted it to their socials, most definitely gushing over Seonghwa’s beauty combined with his director’s creative vision, his body swathed in form-fitting, eye-catching cloth. Knowing he took that moment from the bratty newcomer and got to savor it all to himself was simply the cherry on top. 
Even when he made his way backstage and sat down to have his hair and makeup redone, the buzz didn’t seem to leave him. The attention didn’t seem to either, his eyes flitting to the side when he began to tune into Wooyoung and San’s conversation as soon as he became the topic. 
“Talk to him already,” Wooyoung encouraged, pushing on San’s broad shoulder to get him to move. “You wanna fuck him or not?” 
“I’m too shyyy,” San whined obnoxiously, giving his best friend a pout, before covering his face. 
“Oh my god, I’ll fuck him then.” Wooyoung casually moved his chair over to Seonghwa, draping one of his hands over the seasoned model’s thighs once he sat down again. “I couldn’t help but notice how fucking hot you were when you put Y/N in her place earlier…” 
“Is that so?” Seonghwa studied Wooyoung’s enticing features, his gaze settling on the mole that graced his glossy lips. “What exactly got you all hot and bothered?” 
Meanwhile, San meekly sat down on the other side of Seonghwa, gently pressing one hand into the older man’s thigh like he was making biscuits. “For me, it was when you threw the champagne in her face…Made me hard…” 
Seonghwa turned to look at San, nodding at his pretty, feline-like face with approval, before his chin was grabbed by Wooyoung, his fingers pressing into his cheeks. “For me, it was when you called her out for being a whore…All I could think about was you making me your whore instead…” 
“Me first,” San whined, leaning on Seonghwa’s shoulder, trying to pull Seonghwa’s attention from Wooyoung, who gave him the evil eye. 
“You cum too fast, San. He should fuck me first,” Wooyoung countered, smiling smugly, wrapping a lock of Seonghwa’s hair around his finger. “I’m versatile, by the way. We can do whatever you want to, baby.” 
“Mm, tell me more…” Seonghwa requested, bringing his arms back and around both of their shoulders, enjoying the feeling of being fawned over by two extremely attractive models who seemed to be competing over his attention. Of course they would be. He was an icon. 
At this point, the makeup and hair stylist had wandered off to take care of the other models, not having nearly enough time to care about Seonghwa’s current quest in getting his dick wet. 
Your plan had all been riding on whether Seonghwa would be self-serving or not, and much to your relief, you spotted him whispering things into the ears of your friends from across the large room, taking the opportunity to fit yourself into the black form-fitting blazer that was matched with a simple black trouser, a few silver necklaces hanging from your exposed collarbone. As it was made for Seonghwa at the last second, the blazer had nothing underneath it, leaving virtually nothing to the imagination. It was explicit, to say the least. You already knew in your heart that your director would love it. 
And, just like that, Hongjoong came back around the corner with a coffee cup in hand. Upon seeing you, he gasped loudly, stopping dramatically in his tracks, taking a long swig from his cup and handing it off to one of the nameless people next to him, causing everyone around him to look at you, including Seonghwa and your partners in crime. “Darling. Look. At. You.” 
“Do you like it, Director?” you asked softly, running one of your fingers along the perfectly stitched lining of your breast pocket. 
Hongjoong stood in front of you, placing his hands on your shoulders, letting them slowly slide down the sides of your arms, his eyes surveying your perfect form, unable to take his eyes off of your exposed chest. “This is going to turn heads…This is…going to change everything.” Hongjoong sighed out, dollar signs in his eyes and inspiration pouring out of his very soul. He suddenly turned you to face the crowd of people, clutching your shoulders, ready to shed a tear. “Do you see this, everyone? We are witnessing a new era in fashion occur in front of our very eyes. Out with the old, in with the new.” 
Your director continued on with his inspiring, soul-gripping speech, which resulted in a sea of tears and a wave of applause from your roused colleagues, but you couldn’t hear a single thing. All you could focus on was the way Seonghwa’s dark eyes bored into you, his lips screwed into a deep frown, his fingers gripping his chair so tightly he left indents. He was just waiting for the moment he could tear you apart. And for some odd reason, you welcomed it with open arms as you walked past him with your dear director’s arm hooked around your waist, blowing him a kiss on your way to the main stage to be on display for everyone to see the collection’s final jaw-dropping look. 
࿏࿏࿏
“Y/N, baby, you’re trending!” San exclaimed loudly, having to raise his voice so you could hear him over the loud, thumping music that was blasting through the club’s speakers, repositioning himself on the large leather couch you all sat on. He kept his arm securely around Wooyoung’s waist, leaning across him to show you countless posts that showcased you strutting down the runway.
Wooyoung squeezed your shoulder, taking a drink from his glass, giggling to himself. “I think at least five million people have seen your tits already.” 
“And, here’s to five million more,” you mused, holding your own glass up to clink it against Wooyoung’s and San’s, and a couple other drunk models that sat around the VIP lounge. After you downed your drink, you got up, wobbling a bit. “I have to piss. I’ll be right back.” 
“Hurry back, okay? We have to take more celebratory shots!” San shouted at you as he watched you give him an ‘okay’ sign, before you disappeared into the large, sweaty crowd. 
Little did you know, a cat and mouse game had begun inside that overcrowded club, your trek to a bathroom that didn’t already have someone pissing or fucking inside it no longer a solo adventure. Seonghwa weaved in between patrons, following close behind you, his dark gaze alone deterring anyone from trying to stop him and get in his pants. 
It was when you found a lone, empty bathroom that he knew it was his time to strike, to teach you a much needed lesson, to show you who was really on top. 
You barely had a chance to check the current state of your makeup when Seonghwa came barging in, pinning you to one of the sinks before you could catch your breath. “S-Seonghwa? What are you doing here?” 
“Don’t act surprised now, you slut,” Seonghwa spat, shoving one of his thighs in between yours, his high heel clicking lightly against the tile floor below. He leaned in so close you could smell the alcohol on his breath. “You thought you could beat me, yeah? Thought you could parade around like a whore and take my place? Take what’s rightfully mine?” 
The more you tried to resist him, the more he shoved his thigh into your barely clothed core, the friction causing a small gasp to leave your lips. Not wanting to give in, you reached up to caress the huffing man’s cheek, smiling sweetly up at him. “Oh, is this about Hongjoong? Are you upset that you can taste my wet cunt on his cock when you suck him off?” 
Seonghwa suddenly grabbed you by the throat, his grip just tight enough to make your head go fuzzy, leaning in just close enough that his lips ghosted over yours, chuckling lightly at the strained moan that escaped your parted lips. “You’re such a goddamn brat…Why is that? Is it because you want me to put you in your place, Y/N?” 
At this point in time, you were so wet, you were actively leaving a wet patch on Seonghwa’s expensive suede pants, unable to keep more sounds of pleasure from bubbling out of your tight throat when Seonghwa grabbed your hip with his free hand and began to actively drag your cunt across his thigh, able to feel his straining cock pressing into your heat.
“Answer my question, whore…Or are you that empty-headed already? Got cock on the brain?” Seonghwa questioned, hooking his fingers into the hem of your pants and pulling them off of you, not surprised to see your cunt in all its glistening glory, positioning you back onto his thigh so that you could eagerly grind yourself along it.
“Please fuck me. Fuck me like you hate me, Seonghwa,” you asked in between breaths, holding desperately onto his shoulders, incidentally pulling his thin blazer from his shoulders, revealing his perfect, glowing skin underneath. 
“I do hate you. I hate your fucking guts.” Seonghwa growled, suddenly ripping your blouse completely open, grabbing and groping at your tits, squeezing your nipples roughly between his ringed fingers. 
“Then rearrange them,” you growled back, grabbing either side of his jaw, the both of you meeting in the middle, your heated kiss consisting more of teeth and tongue than anything else. 
Seonghwa lifted you up onto the sink, fumbling with his designer belt, encouraging you to reach down and help him pull it off for him, feeling his heavy cock drop into your hands. He groaned into your open mouth when you began to jerk him off, breaking the rough kiss to begin attacking your neck, making sure he left you with pretty purple bruises on your sensitive skin. 
“Fuck, Seonghwa…” you moaned, hooking your thighs around his impossibly slim waist, feeling him starting to rub the length of his cock across your aching cunt, the pronounced ridge of his cockhead repeatedly hooking onto your clit. “Do you have a condom?”  
Seonghwa shook his head, cementing one hand around your waist, guiding the head of his cock into your tight entrance, your inner walls straining to take someone of his size inside. “You’re going to take my cock like a good slut, yeah? Going to let me fuck you raw, aren’t you?” 
“Nnngh, n-no one fucks me raw, not even Hongjoong,” you whimpered pathetically, wrapping your arms around his neck, holding him impossibly close, unable to do anything but take Seonghwa’s hot, pulsing length inside you inch by inch, about to melt into a puddle by the time he was fully sheathed inside you. 
“Well, aren’t I a lucky man?” Seonghwa purred softly into your ear, just as he began bucking his hips up into you, reaching up to create a makeshift ponytail with your hair, tugging it each time he brought you down onto his cock, unable to keep himself from letting out a few breathy laughs of pure satisfaction, due to watching you completely fall apart inside his arms. “You like this, brat? No one’s fucked you on their cock like this, have they? No one’s ever treated you like the shameless slut you are. What a shame…” 
“S-eong-hwa…!” you gasped, unable to speak with the way your breath was getting punched out of you each time the furious model slammed himself back into you, swearing he was going to bruise your cervix with such rough treatment — and you couldn’t have been wetter. “Please…!”
“Please, what? No, you know what? I don’t even want to hear what you have to say. Now, open your fucking mouth,” Seonghwa grunted in between brutal thrusts, reaching up in between your sweaty, disheveled bodies to force your jaw open, sending a wad of spit directly down your throat, feeling your cunt clench around him when he did. “Oh, you like that? Of course you do.” 
“Aaah,” you whined, letting your tongue hang out of your mouth, feeling almost completely blissed out when Seonghwa sent another wad of saliva onto your tongue, the both of you watching it drip down, before you swallowed it. “Gonna cum…” 
“Course you are, you pathetic little slut…” Seonghwa reached down to rub his thumb roughly against your clit, still pounding into you with so much vigor, he had to time his breathing so that he didn’t get too lightheaded, routinely blowing wet locks of hair out of his focused eyes. “I’m going to cum too…going to fill this whore cunt with my load. Fill you up so deep, I’ll knock you up…I’ll own you…” 
It was then that you began to cry, holding onto Seonghwa so tightly your fingers cramped up, your lower half cramping up in a similar fashion, feeling your warm arousal soak the both of you, allowing Seonghwa to slip in and out of you even easier than before. “Cum…inside…make me yours, Seonghwa…” you whispered, finally submitting to the man that you had been fighting with for who knows how long, about to willingly let him pump a baby into you.
If only your friends could see you now. They’d probably livestream it and give the audience a play by play from the sidelines, those sick fucks. You loved them for it. 
“Hey, eyes on me. Don’t fade out just yet, not while I’m filling you up,” Seonghwa mumbled against your lips, nipping at your bottom lip to catch your attention. He slid out fully and slipped back in one more time, holding you completely still, letting out groan after groan as he pumped his cum into you, not stopping until every last drop made it into your womb. He grabbed your hand and pressed it to your heaving abdomen, making you feel the pouch he created inside you, giving you butterflies from the sensation. “Feel that, Y/N? That’s the proof of my ownership. You’re no longer a mindless slut for just anyone’s cock, are you?” 
“No…” you murmured, shaking your head, so dizzy from being fucked into submission that you simply leaned forward and rested your head against his heated shoulder. “I’m yours, Seonghwa…” 
Seonghwa felt a sudden swell of pride inside his chest, his brain and body tingling with pleasure, like he was back on stage again, surrounded by a crowd of people that praised him, that so desperately wanted what he had to offer. He hugged you close, pressing his lips against your ear, his lips forming a soft smile. “Say that again.” 
You smiled shyly into Seonghwa’s neck, an unfamiliar warmth present within your chest, almost not wanting to let go of him. “Now, let’s not get carried away.” 
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labyrynth · 2 years
Text
vent post abt past job so i can get it out of my brain hopefully:
one of the things that sucks the most about the customer service jobs i’ve worked is that the kind of service that would get me the most praise from customers—e.g. telling me they would look for me the next time they were there, asking about how to leave a review or praise me to my manager, even being offered cash tips—was also one of the most frequent reasons i got scolded.
my most recent boss had an issue with basically anything beyond generic friendliness—even if i knew we did or didn’t have something when asked for that specific thing, he insisted that i play dumb anyway and make them look for it themself (“to encourage browsing”). only wanted to show people the super expensive things, even when it was clear they were way out of their price range, when we had cheaper alternatives (i sometimes had to sneak in before they left empty handed to show them the regular options—which tended to be what they were actually looking for). he was also just overall convinced he was Right, which meant that i was Wrong, even if he didn’t actually know anything about the subject at hand. he also tended to ignore any suggestions i made for that same reason, even when it was clear that what he was doing wasn’t working very well.
i’m relieved to not be working there any more, but the way that he handled it was shitty as hell, and really only confirmed my judgement that yeah, he really was just a disrespectful, cranky old man the whole time, and no, that wasn’t my fault.
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asuyaka · 4 months
Text
This one is for you, baby!
★ - hellooo!!! original idea comes from sanjisboyfie <33 (user s so real but m more of a Zoro guy ૮꒰ ˶• ༝ •˶꒱ა ♡ )
☆ - Basketball Player Gojo Satoru x Male Reader!
♡ - CW: homophobia but you and Satoru deal with it!
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If there's anything to know about Gojo Satoru, the top scorer of the 'Jujutsu' basketball team, is that he has a boyfriend.
And God does he love [Name] to the ends of infinity and back.
It was a scandal when the press first saw you two technically three since Satoru's best friend Suguru was there too together, doing the unthinkable.
Holding hands.
Articles and Magazines came out with headlines like "Player for the Kaisen Basketball team, Gojo Satoru is gay?!" or "Should kids be allowed to watch Gojo Satoru play?" came out. Every time during a game, there would always be someone who, without a doubt, asked if the rumors were true.
Their coach, Yaga Masamichi, advised Satoru to stay neutral on the situation until it blew over. But if there's one thing Gojo Satoru is not good at doing, it's following orders.
So, he brought you to a game one day. Bout you a court-side seat (even though it was expensive as hell), and made sure you were wearing his jersey.
He was playing against an almost equally talented team, the 'Cursed' with their star player, Itadori Sukuna (older brother to the friend of Satoru's son).
Thirty seconds before the last quarter ended, the score was tied, 104 to 104. Satoru had the ball, dribbling it down the court as time seemed to move faster.
He passed to Suguru, running down to the three-point line to make the last shot of the game.
Your heart was thumping violently against your chest, hands gripping the hem of Satoru's jersey as you watched the ball swish through the net as the end-game buzzer went off.
Cheers immediately erupted from the crowd as the ball bounced on the floor two final times, securing the Championship for Satoru's team.
What he does next surprises you. Satoru and Suguru don't do their usual handshake after winning a game—no— he makes a beeline towards you, using his wide arms to pick you up by your waist, and then he kisses you.
On National TV, in front of several people, with absolutely no shame.
Satoru smiles at you, it's full of teeth and nevertheless beautiful before putting you down.
That was when the public knew about how kind Gojo Satoru could be when he was not on the court and the only person who managed to pull that personality out of him.
Back to the present, you're sitting court-side again, way after the game was over, relaxing on your phone while Satoru and Suguru were looking to see who could make the most free-throws to decide who was paying for their victory food.
It was pointless, really, because they're both rich as shit so the competition was stupid, and Suguru was most likely going to win since free-throws were how he scored points 96.99% of the time.
Your throat feels a bit parched from all the cheering you were doing, so you get up with a yawn, stretching your body and rubbing your eyes slightly. "I'm gonna go get something to drink, maybe use the bathroom too."
Satoru turns to look at you with a smile. "Use my card and be back quick! Watch me dunk on Suguru's head!"
A ball slams against the back of his hair, a loud laugh erupting from behind him. "You can't score on me, your defense is ass."
Satoru grabs the ball with new-found malice in his eyes. "One-on-one, right now. Loser has to post whatever the other says on their Twitter account."
Suguru smirks. "Bet."
You roll your eyes at their antics as you put on Satoru's jacket. Satoru is tall, much bigger than you so the sleeves fall right past your arms. It looks like a dress on you, but that's how most of Satoru's clothes look, you've gotten used to it.
You use the bathroom, rolling Satoru's sleeves up as you start to wash your hands. The door opens, and a man walks in.
It's a bathroom, people are obviously going to enter inside so you pay it no mind. It starts to raise a few flags in your head when the man stays there, too close for comfort as his shoulder brushes against yours.
"You're dating that gay dude, right?"
The question takes you by surprise. You slowly go back to drying your hands, looking at the man through the mirror with a blank look on your face. "Excuse me?"
The man scoffs. "Don't play stupid. Gojo? You're the gaybo that's dating him, right?"
Now, you aren't a rude person. You don't believe in violence and while you'll stand up for yourself when needed, you aren't one to sit down and let yourself get disrespected. "Yes, I'm dating Satoru. Is that a problem?"
The man's face contorts in obvious disgust before turning into something malicious. "Fuckin' thought so. Now that your little boyfriend isn't here, me and you can talk, right?"
You unroll Satoru's sleeves and pull up the zipper. "I'm not interested, thank you though." You respond in a passive-aggressive tone, moving towards the door before a hand pushes you back.
"I said, we're going to talk, right?"
Your face hardens and you cross your arms. "And I said, I'm not interested. Now if you excuse me, I have a boyfriend that's waiting for me on the court."
The man stands before the door, using his frame to block the exit. Instantly dropping the 'nice guy' act, he stares at you like you're dirt underneath his shoe. "I never understood why people are gay. You seriously like taking it up the ass?"
That's where this was going.
You rub your temples as a long sigh leaves your lips. "Okay, great, can I leave now?"
"Can't you understand what I'm saying?!" The man raises his voice. "You're supposed to like—"
"Listen man," You interrupt with a bored expression. "I really don't care what you think of my relationship. I love Satoru, Satoru loves me, we're happy. Now, if you don't have anything else you want to tell me, I'll be leaving now."
As soon as you reach for the door knob, it slams open, colliding the man (and your hand) with the wall.
You wince harshly as you wave it around, profusely blowing on it as if it'd relieve the pain. Satoru's expression turns from confused to concerned very easily.
"Baby? Oh shit, I'm sorry..." He shushes you softly, bringing your hand to the sink to run some cold water over it.
"I won, by the way, Suguru sucks at basketball." Satoru mutters softly, like he's trying to distract you from the throbbing pain in your hand.
You nod gently as the pain slowly subsides. It isn't all the way gone, but it's bearable enough for you not to feel it as much. Satoru notices easily, bringing your hand up to place a kiss on it. "Feelin' better?"
"Yeah... thanks Satoru."
He smiles—it's the smile he only uses with you, it makes your heart giddy— placing a kiss on your forehead as he takes your other (unbruised) hand, leading you outside the bathroom.
Suguru is waiting, plainly dressed in a black turtleneck and black cargo pants, tearing his eyes away from his phone when he notices the two of you.
Satoru takes his bags and your bag, briefly leaving his hand from yours as he slings them over his shoulder. He's quick to reconnect them, putting his signature glasses on his face. "Ready, Suguru?"
Suguru flips him off, stuffing his phone in his pocket and fishing out his car keys. "You two make me homophobic."
"T'aww," Satoru teases, using his elbow to nudge it into Suguru's bicep. "Suguru jealous that he's single? That he won't have the privilege of dating the beautiful, handsome, pretty, attractive, alluring, eye-catching—"
"Oh my God, shut up!"
You laugh softly, thanking Satoru as he opens the door for you, closing it when you're secured inside and quickly going to the seat beside you.
The pain is your hand becomes an after thought as Suguru and Satoru keep bickering over the tiniest things, like the car mist Suguru uses, to how cold it is, and Suguru's lack of a significant other.
You sigh. Why would you pay attention to the pain in your hand when you have your boyfriend to look at?
He's a beautiful man after all, a man that you love from infinity and beyond.
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Stars in the sky ☆
@sanjisboyfie
828 notes · View notes
lightblue07 · 29 days
Text
Rumors | LN4
𝐏𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: Lando Norris x Sainz! Reader
𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: Lando's ideas are never good, but according to him, this is the perfect plan to get Y/n back.
MASTERLIST
A/n: English is not my first language!!
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Y/n entered Mclarren's garage angrily.  She was furious, so much, that she didn't pay attention to those who greeted her or tried to strike up a conversation with her.
No, there was just something on her mind. Find that idiot Lando... to kill him, of course.
She found him with his camera in a corner.  He smiled, oblivious to the storm that was advancing towards him.
"What's fucking wrong with you?"  Y/n yelled at him.
After so many arguments they both had, the team didn't even look in their directions.
Lando raised his eyebrows "what are you talking about?"
Y/n threw the already crumpled magazine at his chest. Lando took it
"Do you want to explain why the hell you told everyone we were dating?!"
"God, language please" Lando replied.
"Choose your next words carefully because they may be your last," she warned.
Lando looked through the magazine and smiled "I look good in the photos."
Y/n sighed trying to calm down "I will kill you, I swear to god I will."
"Well well," he raised his hands in innocence, "I missed it, okay?"
Now Y/n laughed sarcastically, "Did you miss telling one of the best-selling gossip magazines in the world that I'm dating you?"
"Yes, you explain it very well."
"Do you want to explain how that happened?"
"They asked me about you and, I don't know, I just said it. It's no big deal, like dating me is that bad."
"I would never go out with you. This is what you're going to do, you're going to go to the first journalist and say you were wrong or you were joking or whatever, but you're going to fix it."
"No "
"Excuse me? What do you mean no?"
"I won't make a big fuss over a simple rumor, I have more important things to do"
"It's a rumor that you started yourself stupid!"
"Language" was all he said before looking down at his camera again "if you care that much, you talk to the media."
"You know I don't like doing it."
"Too bad for you, princess. You should go to your brother before practice starts, girlfriend."
"Someday, Lando, I'll kill you in your sleep," she swore, taking the magazine in her hands and throwing it into the nearest basket.
He shrugged and smiled "as long as you're on top of my bed, you can do whatever you want."
Y/n he walked avoiding every media outlet that crossed his path until he reached the Ferrari garage where his brother was talking to some engineers.  She went deeper, to the armchair where he had left his bag.
Carlos crossed her path. "Are you dating Lando?"
"You know I would never go out with him"
"Three journalists asked me about your relationship with him."
"The idiot told everyone we were together!"  she took the bag  "I'm going home "
"Why are you going home?"
"The paparazzi are going to harass me until I come out to talk about it and you know I hate talking to them"
"But you'll come tomorrow, right? You promised these for one of my races."
Y/n pursed her lips not wanting to fail her word.
The thing was that she was a private being since she was little
She always had been or at least she was until she found out who her father was.
When she found out and wanted to meet him, something her mother did not approve of, she did not know that it came with massive media exposure.
Suddenly she couldn't go anywhere without her appearing in the newspapers the next day, apparently being her bastard daughter gave a lot to talk about.
The only silver lining was that she had gained one wonderful brother.
She had a hard time becoming more reserved again, only appearing in different magazines or online media regarding Lando.
The thing with Lando was, on the other hand, hardly less complicated.
When her brother was with McLarren they had gotten along very well and there were tons of videos and photos of them together.
It didn't help that their chemistry was real, they went on several dates, but from one moment to the next, Lando was photographed with an English model in a cafe. That's when things started to go wrong with the driver.
Her face had also appeared at that moment.
It was another moment that she had decided to disappear from showbiz again.
She was doing pretty well, so far.
"I'll come to your race tomorrow," she said, "I'll watch practice from the hotel."
"Good," he nodded happily. "I'll talk to Norris when i can."
Y/n noticed how he used the driver last name on purpose so she smiled at him.
"Instead of talking, can you get him off the track?"  She asked with false illusion
Carlos shrugged his shoulders. "I can try. Let me know when you're at the hotel. See you tomorrow."
Y/n he said goodbye to some acquaintances, put on the hood of her coat, some glasses and went out.
Lando watched as Y/n stormed out of the garage with a satisfied smile on his face.
"You know you're an idiot, right?" Oscar appeared next to him.
"I know," he replied, "but it's to win her back so I won't complain."
Oscar scoffed "she seemed pretty angry, how is that a step towards winning her back?"
Lando smiled "she spoke to me again, she hadn't spoken to me in months. It's progress" he nodded confidently.
Oscar looked at him confused "She didn't speak to you because you went out with a model"
"Those photos were old and ruined everything. But that doesn't matter anymore, I will recover"
Race day arrived.  Y/n walked around the paddock trying to go unnoticed, as much as she could with many of the cameras pointed at her.
She continued walking until she found her brother who laughed at her when he saw her
"And that shirt?"
She saw her clothes, the Ferrari shirt with the number 55 on her back and smiled at him
"I thought it was appropriate"
"It will definitely give me luck," he nodded. "Thank you for coming today."
"Don't thank me, you'll take me to dinner later"
Carlos laughed "I will. I'll go change, stay close"
"I can take you to dinner later," she heard from behind her. y/n sighed and began to walk without turning around being aware of the cameras surrounding her.
"Get lost, Lando."
Lando walked behind her "I can take you to that restaurant you like so much."
Y/n turned around, facing him.
"What do you want? Not only spread false rumors, but now you're chasing me around the Paddock? What are you playing at?"
"I'm not playing anything, I'm just inviting you to eat after the race"
"We haven't talked in months and now you want to eat with me?"
"We haven't talked in months because you didn't talk to me"
"I didn't talk to you because you're an idiot"
"Language," he corrected, "since when do you swear so much?"
"Since I have someone to curse"
Lando looked at her outfit and frowned.
"I should get you a shirt with my number on it, it's not like red doesn't suit you"
Before she could respond, one of the new engineers who had joined Ferrari
"Y/n," he greeted and nodded towards Lando, who returned the wave, "I already have your seat reserved for when the race starts."
"Thanks, Joe. Do you want something to drink for the race?"
"The usual is fine, I got those donuts you like"
Y/n she smiled big "you're the best, I'll get the drinks and go"
Lando raised his eyebrows at her when he heard her.  He looked at the employee with disdain, was he the best?  Just to get him some donuts?  Lando snorted.
"See you there"
"See you there" Lando imitated in a childish voice.
Y/n saw him “what's wrong with you now?”
"You. You were flirting with him."
"I'm not" she denied quickly
"I'll get the drinks. Oh, you're the best" he imitate her voice
"I don't talk like that!"  She was indignant "and I wasn't flirting with him."
"Well he definitely did it with you"
Y/n she turned red and bit her lip "do you think so?"
"Oh, god," the boy complained, "you like that he likes you! Because you like him!"
“Shut up” y/n rushed to look to the sides of her hoping no one was listening “it’s not true.”
"How disgusting," he turning around, "I'm leaving before I end throwing up"
Y/n she laughed helplessly.  Lando smiled at the sound and looked back at her.
"No one makes you laugh like I do, just so you know"
She laughed again. “Whatever, Lando.”
Formula One was never one of her favorite sports, and to be honest, she didn't even know what it was about until her brother explained it to her in detail.
And yet, she never quite understood it.
However, she knew enough to be glad that her brother ended up in p3.
She screamed, jumped and celebrated with the team. She recorded the entire trophy presentation and how they threw champagne at each other.
She uploaded it to her networks, quite proud of her brother. She was fascinating, all the joy of her surrounding her, she was almost electrifying.
Lando frowned at the news he was reading on his cell phone.
It was a photo of you with that stupid Ferrari employee, hugging and happy in the middle of celebrating the race, and on the side was a photo of him.
The title said something like "Deception and breakup?"
Lando turned off his cell phone and threw it on the side of his hotel bed.  He looked at the ceiling almost wistfully.
It was 2 am in the morning, he had seen many of those posts in the last week
His plan turned against him in an instant.  Another man wasn't supposed to show up in Y/n's life and steal her attention.
Worst of all, she seemed to like him.
Lando groaned from exhaustion, but he knew he wouldn't be able to sleep.
He took his cell phone and looked for her contact.  His finger hovered over the call icon until he made up his mind.
He pressed and waited.
Four rings passed before something was heard, a small murmur.
"Lando?"
"He's not even that cute."
"What?"
"I sure couldn't take you to good places."
"Lando," she spoke more awake, "it's a quarter past two in the morning."
"I know, I see the clock," he said.
" you're drunk? "
Lando looked at the empty beer cans next to him.
"Maybe... "
"You're not supposed to drink, are you?"
"What are you going to do? Give me up to your new boyfriend?"
Y/n yawned. "Lando, what are you talking about? I don't have a boyfriend."
"That wasn't what the news said."
" do you believe everything the news says? You know how easy it is to create a rumor more than everyone else, right?"
Lando complained “but it wasn't supposed to be like that!”
"And what was it supposed to be like?"
"You didn't talk to me no matter what I did, and I knew that the rumor would bother you so much that you would have no choice but to talk to me."
"All this just so I could talk to you? Really?"
Lando sighed sadly, "You really don't know how much I like you, do you? You stopped talking to me months ago and when you do you just insult me, which, by the way, you look really pretty when you're angry..."
"You are deviating from the conversation. I stopped talking to you for a reason"
"A wrong one. The photos were old, I tried to tell you but you never listened to me"
Y/n she was silent for so long that Lando had to ask if she was still there.
"He's not my boyfriend," she said and continued, "It's late, Lando. Go get some sleep, we'll see you in a few days."
"And we will talk?"
"And we will talk" she confirmed "get some sleep"
"I don't think I can sleep," he confessed, "but I'll try, good night Y/n."
"Good night, Lando."
Y/n wasn't sure she would be able to sleep again that night either.
Lando was restless, looking around.  He was early, probably the earliest he had ever arrived in his entire Formula One career, but he couldn't stay in the hotel any longer.
Not when he knew Y/n would be in the Paddock to watch the qualification.
He was anxious and a little nervous.  Excited too.
The phone call was recorded in his mind, when he woke up he was almost ashamed for having called her and waking her up to confess his feelings but he was not ashamed of feeling what he felt.
"Sometimes you have really bad ideas, you know?" someone said behind him.
"But some are really good" he turned around to find Y/n "hey"
"Hey"
"How have you been? Carlos said you went to Spain"
"Well, I went to see my dad for a few days. It was nice to be home."
"Well, that's... fantastic. It's rare to hear you talk to me without insulting me."
"I can always do it again"
"No no, I'll be fine. Do you want to talk?"
"I thought we did that" she mocked.
Lando whined “Y/n…”
She laughed "well, I'm sorry. You like me..."
"More than anyone else in my entire life," he interrupted.
She tried to hide her smile. "As I was saying, you like me, I like you, maybe we should go out on a date."
"Do you like me?" He got excited
"To be honest, I never stopped liking you."
"Good, because I didn't stop liking you either. Let's have that date."
"No misunderstandings or stupid rumors this time, okay?"
"Okay" Lando grabbed her waist and leaned down to kiss her, but Y/n covered her mouth making her lips collide with his hand.
"Sorry, I don't kiss until the second date."
Lando laughed "I guess I'll have to earn it."
Y/n nodded with a smile, "yes, but don't worry, I'm not going to make it too difficult for you."
Lando laughed again and this time pulled her into his arms for a hug.
Maybe his plan hadn't been the best or had it turned out the way he wanted.  But the result was worth it.
Extra!
Y/n was waiting outside McLarren's garage for his boyfriend to show up.
Boyfriend.  What a strange word to describe Lando.  She had called him so many different things before that calling him boyfriend was too weird.
And yet it was her favorite description of him. He was her boyfriend now and she loved it.
He appeared with a smile
"Hey, princess" he greeted, taking her by the waist and pulling her close to him to kiss her, "I missed you."
"We saw each other an hour ago"
"You didn't miss me then?"
"I didn't say that, I missed you too"
"Liar," he joked, moving away from her, "I have something for you, raise your arms."
She had learned not to question Lando too much so she just did what she asked.
Her boyfriend picked up an orange T-shirt and put it over her head and arms.  When Y/n could see herself she laughed.
It was a McLaren t-shirt that she was sure had her last name and number on the back.
Lando smiled at the sight.
"Now you can cheer for me"
"Carlos will kill you"
"Possibly, but it's a risk I'll take" Y/n laughed and kissed him again.
In the distance a paparazzi was taking photos of the entire sequence, ready for the next publication and news about it.
However, this would be news that Y/n and Lando wouldn't mind.
480 notes · View notes
mysticmunson · 2 years
Text
first base; eddie munson
prompt: going steady with eddie munson meant a lot of thing, but you couldn't have guessed his version of first base.
word count: 1.8k
warnings: perverted, filming sex, teasing including name-calling, domination and submission, fuck machines, let me know if i missed anything :)
an: sooooo this was written in one sitting after seeing the amazing @mypoisonedvine drabble, and it's a top tier kink for me so i figured i'd take a stab at it :p feedback is always appreciated
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“You want me to do what?”
Going steady with Eddie Munson meant a lot of things. It included going to his band's concerts, learning more about Dungeons and Dragons than you ever thought you would, and dealing with his outlandish personality. All these things made you like him even more.
The decision to take it slow wasn’t a vocalized one, but you guys had been together for about 3 months and hadn’t had sex yet, with a lot of just making out and fondling that lead to frustration on each end. 
While you knew Eddie had a bit of a perverted mind, you had come across his stash of magazine cut outs and a few pornos, but this wasn’t something you were expecting, not opposed to though.
“Does that sound fun to you or…” He questioned, sitting on the bed, fiddling with a packet of cigarettes. You stood still as the question rang through for a moment, “Was wondering if I could tie you up and toy fuck you, maybe even film it?”
It was almost like he thought you wouldn’t hear despite being a mere foot away, but you couldn’t lie, the thought was enticing. 
“Okay.”
A twisted grin decorated his face as he stood, grabbing you to push you on the bed. You watched as he grabbed the pair of handcuffs from his wall, whistling absentmindedly as he opened his closet pulling out an odd machine with a dildo attached.
“Don’t even worry about it, this is like my version of first base.” He beamed, but you rolled his eyes at his comment, in what world would this be first base.
“Eddie! What the-” The words fell off as you sat up, shocked at his gadget that he was positioning at the end of the bed, “Where did you even get this?”
“I got real bored in shop class.” He remarked, watching you wince against his sheets, licking his lips already.
“You’re such a perv.” You whispered, his hand coming to your head to lean back, planting a sloppy kiss on your forehead.
“But I’m your perv.” 
Once he helped get your clothes off, the first time fully seeing you naked, he groaned. You laid on the bed as he put cuffs on your hands to his bed frame, stretching you out. Your body was on fire with nerves at this exposure still foreign to your relationship, but even he could see how wet you were getting. 
“Be a good girl and I won’t have to tie your feet down.” He taunted, grasping his new video camera with his left hand, sauntering towards you. You remembered how excited he was to get that, had he been planning this for a while?
His eyes turned soft as his face went closer to yours, kissing you gently, “Let me know if it’s too much, okay? Say the word ‘grapefruit’.”
You nodded, giving him one last peck before he stood up straight, strutting to the end of his mattress. You were all spread for him, the plastic cock just a few centimeters from your wet pussy, he was a bit jealous the material object was getting some before he did. 
His finger flicked the machine on, beginning with long and slow strokes, a gasp falling from your mouth at the intrusion. The camera beeped as he turned it on, focusing on where you connected to his old project. 
“You’re fucking dripping already, look at that.” He gawked, seeing how the toy shined when it would leave you. You whimpered at his words, forcing your eyes open to watch the fully clothed man shove the lens near you.
He backed up, using his right hand to turn it up a notch, watching it bounce faster. He smirked at your already withering demeanor. You were always put together around everyone, but he knew by the end of this, you wouldn’t have an ounce of composure.
“Such a good girl for me, hm? Letting me play with you before we even have sex?” He cooed, trailing the recorder up your frame before he cupped your cheek. You attempted to look away from the red light, but he kept his palm firm.
“Tell me, sweetheart. What does it feel like?” He interrogated, hand leaving your face to palm the growing erection under his jeans. The toy was then upped a notch by Eddie, camera still near your face as you inhaled sharply.
“It feels good, thank you.” You stuttered as it hit your deepest point with a loud moan. He went back to the foot of the bed, turning it up again as you whined, feeling your legs jitter. You could feel his gaze on you along with the silver camera, documenting your every move. 
You threw your head back as the plastic tip prodded at a certain angle, wetness trailing down your lips. His finger danced across your navel before combing through your tuft of hair, yanking gently to make you jolt. He laughed at your reaction, pulling on the coarse hair again to hear your pained whine.
“Look at that cunt, you’re taking it so well. Almost want a taste.” He declared, using his free hand to push your thighs further apart, feet planted on the opposite sides of his lower mattress. 
“Please” You begged, clit throbbing at the idea of his mouth anywhere near you. You had spent night after night imagining Eddie destroying you to tears, fucking you gently then hard, but you couldn’t have guessed that the little pervert wanted to see you fucked by a dildo first.
“Is that what you want? Want my mouth?” He was met with a drawn out cry before inching closer, stopping right above your throbbing bud. He breathed hot air onto it, making you shiver with anticipation and tug at the metal holding your hands up. 
He put his tongue flat against where you needed him most, holding the camera at an awkward placement to get your face in frame as you weeped tearlessly. Managing to reach his other hand beside him, he turned it up two more notches, pulling away to see it thrusting in and out at an intense speed. 
He sucked your bundle of nerves, letting his spit help him glide across the already silky skin. The toy occasionally grazed his skin as he adjusted his mouth, making him wish he had extra hands to stroke his cock at the sight.
He rose to watch you convulse, giving an insincere pout as he watched your hip flick up in the air. 
“You still need your clit played with, baby?” He cooed without an ounce of compassion, just pure arrogance as he watched your eyes haze with need. You nodded quickly, spreading your legs even further by bending them at the knees. 
Mimicking your moan as he rubbed your clit, exaggerating his face to further embarrass you, shoving the camera closer to your flushed face. 
“You’re so greedy, you can’t just accept getting fucked, can you?” He taunted, keeping his fingers at the same speed as the toy, the coil in your lower stomach blossoming. The way he was speaking to you should have made you angry, but it only made you more soaked.
He pulled his fingers up and slid them in your mouth, watching you suck them. He moaned, the same hand going to palm himself through his pants again. 
“Eddie.” You cried, watching himself grasp his cock made your mouth water, which didn’t go unnoticed.
“Awe, you wanna see my dick?” He teased, unbuckling with one hand and shoving his pants down. Once his length was in your sight, your back arched as you got closer. 
It bobbed against him as he turned up the device again, making your orgasm feel on the tip of your tongue. You began babbling incoherent pleas as he stroked himself, watching the precum gather at his tip.
He walked to you wordlessly and spat in your mouth, “Are you gonna come, all because I’m jerking off? You’re so pathetic, tell the camera, tell it how you're just a pathetic slut.” He commanded, shoving it in your face as you forced your eyes to stay open.
“I’m a pathetic slut, I’m a pathetic slut.” You quivered, body shaking as you approached your finish. Your mind began to get cloudy as it cusped, but you yelled as he turned it up even higher. You could hear his laughter at your distraught state, making you finally orgasm. But it felt different, it was more wet than you had ever experienced on your own. 
He set the device upon the machine, getting your whole body into frame
“Look at you,” He growled, yanking your hair up so you looked into the lens, “You fucking soaked my bedsheets, squirted, all cause you’re such a whore who can’t control herself. I do something nice and you do this.” 
You wept as the speed maintained its intense pace, the lewd noise of the fake balls hitting your soaked skin filled the room. He reached his hand down to smack your clit, watching as your release shot up at the friction. 
“What? Can you not handle it?” He scoffed, grinning nonetheless as he saw tears come down your cheeks, “Awe, crying about it? Just a dumb baby?”
You agreed, aches cascading against your frame at the overstimulation, “I’m a dumb baby.”
Pleased by your response, he stood again, backing out of the frame and getting off. He bit his lip as you squirmed from pleasure and pain, he felt his own finish reaching, making him pause. He glanced at your swollen cunt, watching it clench, knowing you were almost there.
“Alright, pretty girl, let it out.” He encouraged, turning the knob up all the way as you screamed, chest heaving at the pace. He quickened the hand on his cock, mimicking the intensity he was witnessing, muttering random words. 
The band snapped as white ropes covered his hand with a moan making you finish again while bawling, seeing his release slip to the floor. Taking a moment to clear his brain, he was snapped out by your yelp. He shut off the camera and then the machine, pulling you off and placing you in his lap. 
Sitting across, he tucked you in his chest and rocked you with soft hushing. Your body buzzed with the aftershocks, feeling so empty after being so full. 
“You did so good, I’m so proud of you.” He praised, stroking your hair as you thanked him, looking up to kiss him. 
Remaining seated until you calmed down, he eventually got you dressed and put all his equipment away. You insisted you could walk, but he carried you to the couch to rest while he changed the sheets.
“I didn’t even know I could do that.” You divulged while he placed the soaked bedding in the washer, he smirked and slammed the door shut to start it.
“I’m just that good.” He boasted, flopping next to you and pulling you in his lap. 
“You’re still a perv though.”
“Yeah, but I’m your perv.”
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an: oooo this makes me nervous to post lol, enjoy weirdos, dont judge
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